A novel, not a biography, about the baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, a Greenwich Village "character" around World War I. She was ahead of her time - today she would be described as a moonbat, I think. In my humble opinion (which is what this blog is all about, right?) she wasted her life. She professed to be independent of men, but her identity was tied up in the men she married and bedded. Why call herself a baroness? Because of her third husband. Her life was one contradiction after another, and she made stupid mistakes and childish decisions. And the poetry, at least the poems that are presented in this book, are third-rate.
But the book is great and well written. Steinke has the ability, part talent and part hard work, of producing just the right image to illustrate her point. The subject matter is entertaining and provocative.
I thought the first part was almost "short attention span" theater - the facts of her life before New York were presented in tiny snippets that left me disappointed. But the second half, in which the baroness develops her "life as art" persona, is much better.
The novel was a finalist for the National Book Award in 2005.
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